


Countdown

by estaels



Category: Tales of Series, Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, F/F, Fluff, Idk why I thought it was a good idea to make myself suffer, Illness, In which Mikleo injures himself trying to remove a watch, Lots of Angst, M/M, Modern AU, Romance, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9352946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estaels/pseuds/estaels
Summary: At first, Mikleo is convinced that having a soulmate is nothing short of a profound blessing. Now the notion makes him nauseous, as he fears the very prospect of hurting the one he loves most, more than death itself.Sorey only wishes to bring his best friend back onto two feet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this a while back and woah it's taking longer than expected to write! It's my first time posting for Zestiria since I only beat the game recently but wow I'm in deep. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the first chapter!!

“Will I ever get a watch?” Asks a seven-year-old Mikleo. It’s late into the night and he’s sat in the crevices of his mother’s lap, as she introduces him to the wondrous concept of having a soulmate. Mikleo finds himself entranced by the idea that somewhere out there, he has his own second half. Someone that could complete him and bring happiness. And so, he listens to Muse’s every word with awe and mesmerisation, eager to learn. He ignores the imminent grogginess settling over him like a blanket, as it’s way past his usual bedtime.

“Everyone gets their own watch the year they turn sixteen.” She smiles down, her lips angling up at Mikleo's impatient pout.

He whines, “But that's so long away!” A huff escapes between his downturned lips. Muse presses a tender kiss to the back of his head, hugging his tiny frame close to her as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Mikleo wriggles in her tight grip. “Aah! You're squishing me!” His mother finally sets him free with a fond chuckle. Her hands still linger upon his shoulders for a while as she speaks.

“Don't worry Mikleo, your childhood will be over in the blink of an eye. You should enjoy it while you still can, because it's something that you'll never get back again.” At her reassurance, Mikleo visibly relaxes, easing into her hold with a yawn. His eyelids begin to flutter like butterfly wings, slowly flickering shut. “Looks like someone's getting sleepy,” Muse teases. The sound of her speech makes Mikleo jerk back to his senses, only to start nodding off again.

“M’not sleepy…” He trails off, before finally falling unconscious against his mother. Muse giggles. She carefully picks him up and places him down in his bed, pulling up the covers and tucking them into the sides. With one final kiss to Mikleo's forehead, Muse turns off the lights and leaves him to a peaceful slumber. 

* * *

 

Mikleo meets his best friend at the age of ten. His name is Sorey and he has the brightest green eyes in the whole world, is what he tells Muse on the very day they meet.

Sorey is a kind boy; he's always inclined to do things that make people happy. Which is why he feels compelled to run to Mikleo's side when he sees him sobbing against the concrete of the playground while clenching a bruised knee.

He kneels beside him and says with the utmost concern in his tone, “Hey, don't cry. I can help you!” Mikleo angles his gaze to see Sorey beaming down at him, with his hand stretched out in front. He takes it shyly, rubbing his eyes once he's finally resting on two feet. “What's the matter?” Sorey asks.

“I wanted to play football like all the others so I could fit in but I'm no good at it.” Mikleo musters between pained sobs. He feels his knees throb as small drops of blood trickle out between cuts. “I couldn't keep up and I fell and gosh this is so embarrassing -- I should have sticked to reading alone in the library like I always do,” he grunts, frustrated and fed-up with his pitiful situation. Mikleo is taken by surprise when Sorey vigorously grasps him by his two bruised hands.

“If you want, we can go to the library together. I love reading!” Sorey chirps.

“You'd do that?” Mikleo's eyes grow wide like saucers and his sobs begin to gradually fade into oblivion.

“Of course! But we should probably get a teacher to help with your knees first. C’mon!” Sorey takes him by the wrist, bringing them forward. Mikleo staggers behind, as his legs are still weak.

“Wait, slow down!” He pleads. Sorey stops in his tracks and looks back apologetically.

“Sorry, I almost forgot that you're hurt.” He moves his arm so that it's supporting Mikleo's body. “Better?”

“Yeah, that's better.” They share a smile and walk together this time. Mikleo feels far more comforted when Sorey's arm is circled around him. He relaxes into his hold with ease.

Mikleo leaves the infirmary with large plasters on both knees. Sorey laughs as he's complaining about the fact that their designs are too childish for him.

“Well, they had to use something,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah but _flowers_? Couldn't they have picked something else? Anything? I'm not a little girl,” Mikleo grumbles.

“Maybe they mistook you for one? I mean, you're very pretty. I've heard some people say that girls are really pretty,” Sorey rambles aloud. Meanwhile, Mikleo's cheeks turn a very deep hue of embarrassed pink.

“Huh?!” Is all he can fumble as they make their way to the library.

Within only a couple of weeks of their meeting, Mikleo and Sorey are known to be practically joined at the hip. They spend every lunchtime in the library, using the cushions to create a makeshift space for them to read together. One day, Sorey picks up a book known as ‘The Celestial Record’ from the shelves. He sits knee-to-knee with Mikleo and places it between them. Once they start reading, it becomes the main subject of their conversation for months. Sorey gets his mother to purchase a proper copy and he immediately invites Mikleo around to read through it a second time. There isn't almost a single day where they aren't at one another’s houses.

Mikleo starts to wonder if he'll be closer to his soulmate than Sorey. The thought of him sharing a deeper connection with someone else is so puzzling that it begins to constantly pester his at consciousness like a swarm of flies. So much so, that he decides to confront his mother about it.

“You know, there is a possibility that Sorey might end up being your soulmate,” she says.

Mikleo's never thought of that option before.

The more he and Sorey grow together, the more probable it seems.

They both end up moving to the same high school at twelve. Sorey makes new friends but he keeps Mikleo close. So close that in fact, Mikleo finds himself becoming well acquainted with his new friends as well. Although, he seems to clash a lot with Edna.

“Hey Meebo, pass me some napkins,” she demands in that monotonous voice of hers.

“No way! Not after you've given me such an awful nickname.”

“But you said that you didn't mind nicknames --”

“I take that back!”

They maintain the same bickering routine for years. Over time, Mikleo learns to create new friendships, all while strengthening what he already has with Sorey. The pair, after years, still maintain their routine of reading together. On some nights, they stay up later than ever, talking about history, ruins or sometimes even the most mindless of nonsense. Certain occasions would involve Muse finding them curled up in bed together, enveloped comfortably in piles of books, notes and random doodles. She always smiles sweetly at the sight.

For so long, it had seemed that Mikleo's life was so perfectly laid out for him on a silver platter.

If only it could remain that way.

* * *

 

Only months stand between Mikleo and the day his watch gets fitted. He becomes unexpectedly sick. So sick, that he ends up hospitalised. Muse is sobbing over his bed, crestfallen, as she’s told that her son only has two years remaining. All Mikleo can do is gingerly pat her hair as he watches the brightness in her eyes shatter into hopeless smithereens.

He gets discharged from hospital with the advice to remain at home for a week while he gets used to his medication. Mikleo spends a lot of time in bed, reading with nothing else to do. He doesn't call any of his friends or interact with them at all, until one day, they come rapping at his front door. Muse answers, allowing them inside and guiding them to Mikleo's bedroom. He's taken by surprise as they all enter simultaneously with Sorey leading in front. Alisha is behind him, holding a bouquet of flowers and Rose is next to her, with a large handmade card in her hands. Before anyone else can do anything, Lailah squashes Mikleo in a bone-crushing glomp, which he feebly returns with an element of surprise.

“You didn't call us or anything! We were all worried sick!” She chastises before setting him free.

“I wasn't!” Edna lies from behind. “But it was a little boring having no Meebo around to make fun of all day.”

“That's just Edna's way of saying that she misses our Mickey boy here.” Zaveid’s comment earns him a scowl and a blow from Edna's umbrella, which she even carries with her inside Mikleo's bedroom. “Ouch!” He cries. Rose rolls her eyes at their antics, and proceeds to shove the card into Mikleo's arms. He opens it to see all the names of his friends scrawled across it beneath a sweet ‘get well soon’ message that looks like it's written by Sorey's hand. He even sees Dezel and Edna's names written close to the corner at the bottom. It's an indication that they truly care for him, despite their reluctance to admit such a fact.

“It was Sorey's idea, but we all thought it'd be nice to do something nice for a friend!”

“We also bought you flowers,” Alisha chimes in with a kind smile. She offers the bouquet, which he takes with shaky hands. Mikleo feels tears tease the very corners of his eyes, as despite his friends wishes, he won't be able to get better.

“Get well soon!” Everyone says in unison. Mikleo takes a look at their smiling faces. Dezel and Edna’s subtle upturn of lips, Zaveid and Rose’s mischievous grins, Alisha and Lailah’s warm smiles.

Sorey's beam. Oh, Sorey, who beams brighter than the sun. His smile could light up the world if he willed it.

For Mikleo, it's the last straw. He finally breaks down, after struggling to retain his composure ever since his condition was brought to fruition. The looks on everyone's faces contort from happiness to concern, as they see him curling into his knees, pouring out tears of sheer and utter despair.

“Mikleo -- hey -- what's the matter?” Sorey asks. His hands move to Mikleo's head, angling it upwards so that they are looking each other in the eye. He sees violet irises that are dulled over. Despondent.

“I know you all want me to get better but...I can't,” Mikleo struggles with each sob. His chest is heavy, but he can't tell if it's because of his condition or not. “The doctor said I have two years…” He pauses as the reality of his situation dawns upon him. “Two years to live,” Mikleo finally whispers. Disbelief settles upon Sorey's features as his hands collapse from Mikleo's cheeks, and fall back to his own sides.

He can hear the sounds of his friends’ hearts breaking in unison. It’s like several glasses crashing to the ground all at once.

Everything else is deathly silent, except the sounds of Mikleo's sobs. He wills them down, until they cease and there's nothing left. Sorey is the first to make a move. His arms circle around him in the most sweet and warm embrace, as he rests his head between the crook of Mikleo's neck and his shoulder. Before he knows it, he's wrapped up in the arms of all his friends in one giant hug and oh lord he's going to start crying even more.

He's grateful to have these people in his life.

They all eventually let go, except for Sorey, who still holds on for dear life.

“We’ll let you two have some privacy for a bit,” Lailah sniffles, wiping a single stray tear from her eye, before making an exit. One by one, everyone else follows with a solemn air about them. No-one really knows what to say.

It's when they're alone that Sorey finally cracks.

He holds Mikleo closer than ever, as if he would break free at any moment. The sheer force of his grip sends them falling from a seating position onto the mattress. Mikleo is lying on his back, while he lets Sorey cry against him.

Crying has become a frequent occurrence only recently and Mikleo figures that this isn't the end. After all, his situation isn't exactly that cheerful, so it makes sense. That doesn't make things any easier. He's never seen Sorey truly upset -- the brunette has always been a source of joy, smiling at every turn. Sadness doesn't fit with him. It's like trying to force two pieces from a different puzzle together. It doesn't work.

Yet despite that, here he is, the dimmest Mikleo's ever seen and he can't help but think it's his fault. If it weren't for him being in this predicament, Sorey wouldn't have any reason to lament in the first place. He's hurt his best friend.

“I still have around two years, you know. It's not like I'm leaving anytime soon.” Mikleo remembers what his mother had told him when he was seven; about how time flies by so fast. Now he looks back on it, he knows what she meant.

Two years is nothing.

He can't tell Sorey that, of course.

“But still, you're important Mikleo! You're not just my best friend, you're more than that -- I can't imagine a world without you -- I...I…” Sorey can't bring himself to say those words. He doesn't know whether what he feels for Mikleo is love or not because it's only possible to fall for your soulmate. He can't even tell if Mikleo's his destined person. Not until next month at least.

“Hey, it'll be alright. Someday you'll meet your soulmate and forget about me.” Mikleo rubs his hands in circular motions around Sorey's back, feeling him relax into his touch.

He doesn't expect Sorey to finally raise the question that's been on his mind for years now.

“What if you're my soulmate?”

Mikleo doesn't know the answer to that question.

He's thankful when Zaveid bursts in to interrupt them.

“Hey guys you're taking a while, are you alright -- oh my, aren't you two getting all cosy in bed?” His tone turns sequatious. He knows very well that a good bit of teasing may do a little to soften everyone's woes, including his own. “Did I come at a bad time?”

“N-not at all!” Mikleo sputters as Sorey pulls away from him. His eyes are still red and puffy from crying, not quite gleaming as bright as they usually do. All Mikleo wants is for them to shine again. They always reminded him of the summer. A time where it was green and warm and the brightness of day would linger almost forever.

The rest of his friends pour in one by one after Zaveid. Muse brings the group a tray of cookies to share. It's almost like all the other get-togethers they've ever had. Almost. 

* * *

 

When Mikleo makes a return to school, everyone is far too dull and careful for his liking. It acts as a constant reminder of the state he's currently in, as if the medication doesn't do that already, and he honestly would rather forget, even if it was for a small, lingering moment.

Edna doesn't even tease him at lunch as much as she used to. Her insults are weak at best. Mikleo knows he should be glad that she's finally started to go easy on him but it's clear that things have begun to get to her too.

Rose doesn't steal his food anymore.

Sorey doesn't come with him to the library. In fact, he talks to him less and less. Mikleo wonders if there's a distance starting to grow between them.

After a couple of weeks, Mikleo thinks that he's reached his final straw. He considers saying something to his friends at some point, but it seems that Rose speaks for him. She slams her hands on the table, sending vibrations thundering across its surface.

“Listen. If we want to make the most of our time left with Mikleo, we're doing it wrong! We have to make these two years the best time of his life, so that when he goes, he brings happy memories with him.” Mikleo stands up to level with Rose.

“Thank you,” he tells her earnestly.

Rose’s advice seems to resonate within everyone except Sorey, who grows more withdrawn as the days draw on.

There's only one week left until their watches are fitted. Mikleo is too distracted by the regret he feels for allowing the distance between him and his best friend to grow this large. He wonders if it's for the best. He also wonders if it's finally the end for them and that in fact, there is someone better out there for each of them.

The night before, Muse confides in him about something she's never mentioned to anyone in her entire lifetime.

“You know, your father died from a condition identical to yours,” she admits. “We were so close, so happy. Until one day, he was gone. When he died, I felt so much pain that I ended up in hospital beside him.”

“I don't understand, what are you trying to say?” Mikleo is perplexed and shocked more than anything. He doesn't know how to process the information he's just received.

“When a soulmate dies, their surviving half has to feel the burden of their souls being torn apart. The closer you and your soulmate are, the stronger the bonds are between you, and the more painful it is when they're gone. Both physically and emotionally. It's not such a big deal when both of you are healthy because the day you die seems so far away, and often, people do tend to grow apart with time. It's actually rare that people have strong relationships with their soulmates these days.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Muse presses a kiss to Mikleo’s forehead.

“Because having a soulmate isn't all black and white -- it's both a blessing and a curse. I think it's important that you know both sides of the story before tomorrow. It's important that you understand that all things come with a burden, some of which shouldn't always be shouldered alone.” Mikleo hugs his mother. He's grateful for all that she's done for him, standing by his side and supporting him for the entirety of his life. “I want you to know that no matter what happens, I'll always be here for you and that I love you very, very much.”

“I love you too, mother.” He smiles into her shoulder.

That night, Mikleo makes a decision. He decides to let Sorey know the next morning, when everyone is queued up outside the infirmary, waiting on their toes. Sorey seems a little more uplifted than usual today. Mikleo supposes it's because he still retains excitement for meeting his own soulmate. Regrettably, he's started to loathe the idea more over time, as sharing a pleasant life with his significant other seems more out of reach than the stars.

“I just wanted to let you know, I'll do whatever it takes to avoid meeting my soulmate.” If he ensures that the bond between them is never forged in the first place, Mikleo can spare his other half any possible pain when he goes. He doesn't want to see them go through what his mother did.

Sorey's eyes widen like saucers. He doesn't even know if it's possible for someone to avoid meeting their soulmate and even then -- why did Mikleo want to do it? Speechless, Sorey doesn't say anything, he just gawks.

“There's no point if I'm going to be gone. Heck, I could even die before I meet them.”

Sorey just remains silent. He doesn't really know what to say. One look at Mikleo says enough. He’s lost all hope when it comes to this. He's downtrodden with despair.

Before either of them can say anything else, Sorey is called to get his watch fitted.

Mikleo is glad to see the boy leave in higher spirits. It's almost like the past few weeks never happened. Sorey still holds onto his optimism because he's got his whole life ahead of him.

“Look Mikleo! I've only got seven months and three days until I meet my soulmate!” Sorey points to his watch, bubbling with excitement. Mikleo notices that it counts down to the second. “That's not long at all!”

Rose walks out moments later, cheering, “Aw sweet, ten minutes!” Almost ten minutes later, Alisha walks out looking quite baffled.

“Three seconds? That can't be right -- ah, Rose!” She squeals as Rose tackles her out of habit, almost sending them toppling to the ground like dominoes. Their watches slide off together in perfect unison.

“Hey Alisha, guess what I've only got -- _oh_.” The two of them stare at their wrists, gobsmacked. They stand up slowly.

“Oh indeed,” Alisha breathes, astounded more than anything. Mikleo doesn't get a chance to congratulate them before his name is called. His moment of happiness for his friends is thwarted at the sound.

He feels sick. It's probably a side-effect of his medication. Well, that's what he tells himself.

Mikleo enters and sits down opposite the school nurse.

“What's your dominant hand?”

“Left,” Mikleo answers. The nurse asks for his right wrist. Reluctantly, he gives it to her.

There's a watch in her hands. Mikleo almost wants to retract his wrist, but he knows there's no way out of this.

The metal feels cold against his skin. The mere feeling of it sends chills down his spine. Mikleo observes as it's fastened snugly around his wrist. When the clasps are pulled shut, numbers instantly begin to whirl around the clock face, until the countdown finally begins.

Dread settles at the pit of Mikleo's stomach at the sight.

Seven months. Three days. It's the same as Sorey's.

Oh heavens, it's the same as Sorey's.

Mikleo tries to reassure himself, as he feels his heart grow still. There could be loads of other people who's watches might have a similar day on them. And besides, they might be counting down to a different time of day, right? Sorey might meet his soulmate in the afternoon and Mikleo in the morning or something like that. That was always a possibility. It could all just be one strange coincidence!

Although Mikleo isn't entirely sure that such a coincidence exists. His connection with Sorey had always appeared to transcend an ordinary friendship. What they've had together all these years -- Mikleo can't imagine sharing that with anyone else.

He wish he could. He doesn't want to hurt Sorey. He doesn't want to see him shed tears again.

Mikleo leaves the infirmary. He's met with the sight of all his friends looking expectantly at him. It's obvious that they're itching to see his watch but he can't bear to show them.

He feels nauseous when he shares a glance with Sorey. He wants to get far away from him yet at the same time, he longs to have him by his side.

He can't take any more of this.

“I-I don't feel so great. I think I'll just go home,” says Mikleo, before he beelines out of the room. He leaves the school building and heads home without delay.

He just wants to get this damn watch off. It doesn't prove to be as easy as he thinks. When he gets back, Muse calls after him, her voice dripping with concern. Her pleas are ignored, as Mikleo goes straight to his room without a word and slams the door behind him. He's sat on his bed, fiddling with the clasp of his watch, trying to break it open. It doesn't budge. Mikleo tries to dig his fingers beneath and break the contraption free somehow, but nothing happens, the watch remains glued to his wrist, the menacing ticks are jarring to his ears.

If he could only get it off, then perhaps, perhaps things would return to how they were before it was put on.

It's ironic. He used to be so enthusiastic about meeting his soulmate as a child, but now, he wants nothing to do with the notion. Because it's Sorey, someone who deserves better. Someone who deserves the best.

And so, Mikleo makes all the effort to change his fate, no matter how ludicrous it seems. He's blacked out the face of his watch so no one can see it counting in unison to Sorey's. He refuses contact with anyone, maintaining a physical distance from his friends, and decides to remain that way for as long as he possibly can. Mikleo tries to deny that he misses Lailah and Rose’s friendly hugs, or the handshake that he and Sorey designed especially for the two of them. He longs for things to be how they used to -- before he was sick.

On some nights, Mikleo makes additional attempts to remove his watch. He wonders if it'll come off if he uses enough force. One time Mikleo tries to get beneath it with a paperclip, another he uses a small screwdriver and instantly regrets it afterwards, as it accidentally tears into his flesh and sends the most agonising sensations resonating throughout his body. He has to bite back a yell because holy crap that was _painful_. Blood and tears stain the mattress.

“Ow…!” He hisses. “That was a terrible idea.”

He adheres a plaster to his arm and decides to call it a day. He also makes the decision to _never_ try that again. It's clear that forcefully removing the watch is an impossible feat that would take defying the laws of nature itself to overcome.

School resumes the next day. Mikleo continues to remain withdrawn like he has for about a month now. It's while he's picking at his lunch absentmindedly that Edna grips him forcefully by the wrist and drags him away.

“Ugh Sadleo; you're not as fun to tease when you're moody, so spill the beans,” she demands, pointing her umbrella threateningly in Mikleo's direction. “I'm not giving you a choice.”

“But there aren't any beans to spill -- cripes! What did I say last time about breaking the skin?!” Mikleo massages his arm, which has just received a rather harsh assault from Edna's parasol.

“Wrong answer. Try again.” Edna ignores his complaints effortlessly. “Hurry up! We don't have all day.”

“It's not that simple,” Mikleo sighs. He doesn't particularly feel up to pouring out his feelings at this moment.

“Well thankfully I'm smart enough to understand ‘not that simple’. Unlike you, I'm not thick. Thickleo.” Mikleo's lips curl into a scowl. “Keeping things bottled up is never good for you. At least say something.” And for some reason, he lets go of his reserve, letting it crumble before him as words of his worries swim between his lips.

The first admission: “Sorey is my soulmate.” It's as if that sentence alone is enough to send Edna reeling with sympathy, and her demeanour softens as she tucks her umbrella away to the side. “And I can't…” Mikleo halts, turning  
to steel like the blood that runs through his veins. The realisation hurts more that it should. “I can't be with him.”

“Why not?” Comes Edna's question. She has inklings to Mikleo's reasoning but perplexity still meanders within her. Surely Mikleo should make the most of his time remaining?

“I'll just bring him pain,” says Mikleo, his tone descending into one of despair. He slumps against the wall with a sigh. One look makes it clear that he's given up. “I can't let him shoulder that burden...when I'm gone…” he staggers on those words. His fists tense enough to create small concaves against soft palms, the subtle curves matching the shape of his nails.

“And so you thought that it was a better idea to take that burden upon yourself. You should really change your name to Thickleo; it suits you better.” Edna's words are harsh, as they bury themselves under Mikleo's skin and sink into his flesh. He doesn't fight back, because it's clear that that there's some truth to her remarks, only derived from years of struggling and perseverance that she's had to plough through herself. “I know it sounds harsh but you can't keep things from Sorey forever; he's beginning to worry. My brother once thought the same as you did, and we all know that went terribly.”

Even if she's right, Mikleo could never bring himself to utter a word to Sorey. The very thought cripples his heart with adrenaline.

And besides, Sorey seems to be coping fine right now. Or, at least, his mood appears to have improved considerably since he got his watch.

The conversation with Edna ends with an empty promise to reopen himself to Sorey, even if it's just a _little_. She's glowering at him all week, incessantly pestering that they talk.

With time, Sorey begins to pick up on the alterations in Mikleo's behaviour himself. It takes a while, as he's not the most observant of people. At first it begins with fleeting glances of concern, as he notices that Mikleo has become more subdued with him than anyone else.

A visible lump forms in Mikleo's throat when Sorey finally decides to confront him. “I haven't done anything wrong, have I?” He asks. And oh, he's done nothing. As usual, he's just been the simple, down-to-earth history fanatic that is, well, Sorey. Mikleo can't even begin to envision that there's anything wrong with that. The guilt-stricken look on his friend’s face only makes his chest clench and constrict into a tight ball.

“No, not at all! If there was something up, you'd be the first to know.” Mikleo is glad that he's not Sorey, or there would be no way her could pull that off. It hurts. Lying to the very person he holds closer than his own heart. It's hard to restrain the revolting bile that swells into a lump inside his throat, as Sorey's expression of concern transforms into one of ease.

“Of course -- we’re not like that at all!” He's gleaming, radiating a light so lustrous that it's blinding. Mikleo feels that he doesn't deserve this unperturbed trust; Sorey believes in him without question yet here he is, making every effort not to blurt out the terrifying truth. “I'm glad everything's okay. I was beginning to worry that something was up.”

“Just a little tired is all.”

“We'll be sure to take your medicine and get some good rest!” Sorey's kindness stretches farther than the ocean. It's funny that he's abysmal when it comes to taking care of himself (and believe Mikleo when he says that on multiple occasions, he's had to spoon feed his best friend because he’s forgotten to eat) yet he looks out for everyone else with the diligence of a soldier. It's when they share a friendly gaze that the realisation crushes Mikleo like a strike of lightning.

_I'm in love with Sorey._

Lingering in the back of his head, the thought he never wished to confront finally emerges in its entirety as an indisputable fact. Mikleo doesn't know what triggers it. Is it the smile? His eyes? He can't tell. It's the last straw. Mikleo's feelings have been imprisoned for too long; he has no choice but to set them free. And this time, denial is no option because falling for Sorey is a given; he's Mikleo's soulmate after all.

Several hours later find him cocooned in the sheets of his bed, mulling over those exact thoughts. Mikleo always doubted his feelings beforehand, believing that someone else would be granted a watch matching his own. But in the end, his fate was written in the stars next to Sorey’s. Denying the truth was no longer a feasible feat, not when his final excuse had been obliterated.

He imagines it. The feeling of Sorey's fingers stitched between his own, or what it's like to be nestled safely in his arms. It sounds warm, pleasant, fictional. And then, he wonders, how would it feel to have Sorey's lips against his? Slow and tentative at first, but gradually blossoming into something deeper, more passionate, as they weave their fingers through each other's hair --

He decides to stop there. Oh maotelus, he has to keep his distance from Sorey. It's regrettable but even being present in the same room as him was driving Mikleo over the moon.

Things will get better from now on, he tells himself. He's never been so wrong in his life.

Over the months leading to the day he's supposed to meet his soulmate, Mikleo's condition begins to plummet downhill. His breathing becomes fragmented, as he inhales and exhales in irregular rasps, even under the influence of medication. Mikleo voices his concerns to his mother one day, and she whisks him to the GP with haste. Running several tests only shows that his condition has deteriorated, which only acts as a solemn reminder that Mikleo's days are severely numbered.

Muse nibbles her quivering lips as he's prescribed even stronger medication, with side effects that are only more intense than they were before. Mikleo despises it; he takes tablets by the hour, only to feel incapacitated with nausea for, well, almost all the time. At school, his mood is abysmal. He's reluctant to communicate with his peers as usual, especially his friends. Edna is far from pleased, and the gaze they share acts as a brutal reminder of the conversation that they had months prior. ‘Talk’, she mouths across the table one day.

This time, it's not only Edna who notices. Rose picks up, so does Lailah and Zaveid and Alisha and even Dezel. Sorey? Yeah, he catches the drift too, unfortunately.

Everything begins to whittle down for a period, as Mikleo grows accustomed to his medicine. The ever present fatigue and nausea simmer to what they used to be previously. He talks to his friends with more frequency, which does wonders to their concerns. For a while, everyone is fortunate enough to experience a period of relief.

It lasts, until there's a month remaining until the fateful day that Mikleo has circled in red felt-tip on his calendar. He doesn't seem to fathom why his nerves are on edge, butterflies maniacally fluttering in his stomach. Just like meeting your soulmate, avoiding them should only be just as simple. Every conversation with Sorey, no matter how minute, ends in stutters. It gets so bad that Mikleo decides to take refuge in the Library under the company of books rather than his friends.

It reminds him of how he used to be, withdrawing to the shadows and spending lunchtimes reading as a child. Never playing with the other children, until Sorey waltzed into his life with the abruptness of a thunderstorm but staying, never leaving his side.

If only no-one could go after him.

It works for two weeks.Then, spontaneously one lunchtime, Rose ambushes him while he reads around the history of Elysia. It's an intriguing book actually. Such a shame that he has to be intruded.

“R-rose?” He gawks, not exactly predicting that she'd make such a sudden, rambunctious entrance. That typical ditzy grin off hers is nowhere to be found. Instead, her eyes are graver, more serious, not holding any sort of mischievous twinkle to them. It's a rare sight, seldom witnessed -- so much so, that there was a running gag between everyone as to whether Rose could ever take anything seriously.

“Come with me; we’re talking. All of us.” Her speech is direct, short, fragmented, voice stiffer than steel. Mikleo's seen what she can do if she's messed with; he listens to her. She takes him back to the lunch table where his friends reside, seating themselves among them.

Lailah is the first to speak. “We’re all really worried for you Mikleo,” she says, eyebrows knotting together in upset. A tone almost motherly in nature -- it aligns perfectly with her character. Beside her, Alisha makes a noise of agreement, mimicking her expression entirely. “Is everything alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” Mikleo lies very obviously through his teeth. “Just a little tired is all.” He winces at Rose’s impatient groan, which is enough to give the impression that everyone sees through his fib like glass. She has her feet crudely settled atop the table and the chair she's on oscillates back and forth like a swing, while she uses her heels as leverage.

“You don't hide in the library for two weeks then come out with that crap! Gosh, you're even more of a terrible liar than Sorey.” Rose’s legs soar to the ground with a thump, as the soles of her feet steady themselves against its polished surface. She leans forward. “If you won't tell us, at least tell him. He's your best friend for crying out loud.” Mikleo spares a glance at Sorey, who doesn't meet his gaze, instead opting to stare at a wall with the intensity of a flame. He looks back at Rose, uncertainty engraved into his countenance. She reads it well, immediately taken a softer turn with her demeanour. “Can't you even do that?”

Mikleo says nothing. His lips are tied, words refusing to leave. Instead, they lodge at the pit of his stomach, making it churn in discomposure.

“Rose, please don't go too hard on him,” Lailah pleads, her hand resting gingerly atop her shoulder. She's promptly contradicted by Edna, who looks to have reached the bitter end of her tether by this point. She slams one palm against the table, using her free hand to point an umbrella in Mikleo's direction.

“No, there's no way you're backing out this time, Mikleo. If you don't say something, will.” A gulp. Edna rarely addresses him without using a nickname. There are creases surrounding her mouth where she frowns. She must be really vexed.

His speech is immobilised. Sorey finally meets his wandering gaze. Mikleo reads his expression; he's pleading. No matter how hard he tries, he can't say anything, the truth is too harrowing to admit aloud in front of everyone. It's all in Edna's hands now. She takes his silence as a cue to speak.

She tells them everything.

One look at Sorey's stricken face is enough to have Mikleo stand up and make a beeline for, well, any place other than here really. Momentarily, Edna's fingers enlace around his wrist.

“I'm sorry but I wasn't going to sit on my ass and watch you end up like my brother.” Mikleo only responds to her with a small, bittersweet smile. He leaves, while Sorey sits stiller than ice, trying to keep his composure from withering to shreds.

This time, no one questions when Mikleo retreats to the library. But even using books wasn't a sufficient escape from the brutal reality that the day he was fated to meet his soulmate only loomed within arm’s reach above the horizon.

One week remaining. Mikleo can now count the days left on his fingers. Seven, six, five, four…

He tells his mother to call in sick when the day finally comes. His happiness has wilted into crippling fear of its arrival. At school, the routine of avoiding Sorey is upheld with utmost vigour.

Three, two, one…

It's tomorrow. The date jeers at him from the calendar, boring into his soul and revoking any chance of sleep. Mikleo stares back. He hopes, wishes, more than anything, that he can protect Sorey from the wearisome trials that fate had reserved just for them. Muse brings him a steamy mug of hot chocolate late into the night, as she sees her son wide awake long after the moon has seized its position in the night sky. No words are required for her to come to an understanding. She just holds him while he drinks, hums a lullaby, as if it were years ago, when young Mikleo used to wake up in sweats from petrifying nightmares.

“Unfortunately, I have no words to help you. There's no way to truly tell if the decision you're making is the correct one.” She's right. Mikleo doesn't even know if it's possible to avoid meeting a soulmate but he has to try. He doesn't know if his decision will rip Sorey's heart to shreds, or if it will work at all. “But no matter what, I'll always be here for you.” Her kind words make Mikleo choke back tears, a pathetic cough weasling between his lips to conceal the emotional lump in his throat.

“Thank you,” he whispers, rasping, voice quaking and cracking with each letter. It hurts. Being ill, pushing away his friends, Sorey. Everything chisels at his heart like flies consuming rotten flesh, wearing it into nothingness. “Thank you.”

The day is over within hours. Mikleo wakes up to the sight of the sun dripping with light as it creeps over the horizon. He's overwhelmed with fatigue, as a glance at the time indicates that he hasn't slept for long. Mikleo crawls out of bed and proceeds through the day almost like he usually would, except he refuses to take even the slightest step outside his house.

The doorbell rings twice that day. The first instance makes Mikleo's hair stand on end because oh _shoot_ , the last thing he wants is to be ambushed by his soulmate. It's just a delivery.

His nerves simmer as the realisation sinks in that Sorey hasn't spoken to him for weeks now.

It rings a second time. This time, his instincts draw him forwards in slow, entranced steps. Mikleo doesn't resist. There were two deliveries due today. This must be the second one.

A pathetic excuse. At the end of the day, it's impossible to fight the forces of fate that pull him in the very direction he wishes to avoid.

“I'll get it; it's probably the books I ordered,” he absentmindedly calls to his mother, who just hums in agreement from her position on front of the television. She's too mesmerised by the cooking program to register his words, teetering forward and edging into her palm while she observes with great intent.

“Oh, he's added way too much salt. That can't be healthy,” she mutters to herself as Mikleo swings the door open.

Sorey. It's Sorey. _Holy crap this was a mistake._

His breaths are short, bordering on hyperventilation -- probably because he forgot to take his medication when waking up. And woah, was it normal for your heart to beat that fast? Or for so many butterflies to flutter in a panicked frenzy in your stomach? Probably not. Oh Maotelus, was he dying -- should he call for an ambulance?

“Hey! I'm surprised you answered,” Sorey says, his voice heavy with anticipation. It shows in his actions -- the nibbling of lips and scratching of his head.

Mikleo is glued still, fingers curled stiffly around the doorframe, feet trapped on the ground. He tries to move his mouth to speak but it's futile. Nothing works.

“I was wondering if we could go for a walk? Just you and me! The weather’s really nice today and uh…”

Mikleo has to stand his ground. He has to refuse. “I-I can't.” He's trying to be firm but his speech is turbulent like an ocean plagued by a storm unleashing its wrath upon the water.

“Please? It's been ages since we talked. And also…” Mikleo watches Sorey sigh as he musters up his next words.

“I have ten minutes left.” Ten. _Ten minutes_. He can't do this. It's been so long; he only has to maintain his hold for a little longer, grasp onto the final thread of hope that he can save his best friend -- no -- the love of his life, from even the prospect of unspeakable pain and torture.

“I can't.” It's like he’s a broken record, repeating the same words over and over again.

“Why not?”

And finally, he says something else. “I'll hurt you, Sorey.” The broken-hearted look about his best friend is enough to indicate that he's shaken him already.

“At least...come with me?” Sorey asks, resigned. Distress is written thickly across his features, turning his expression dark like ink. Mikleo can't help but agree with a sigh. He knows that Sorey won't attempt anything too daring.

He slips on his shoes, alerts Muse to his departure, and for some reason, decides to venture outside, despite his senses begging him not to.

Sorey and him walk side by side against the pavement, their steps carrying them eventually to the park. There's a small, empty clearing of trees where they decide to sit, the quivering shade of branches and trees safeguarding them from the summer warmth. For around a minute, they sit in silence while Sorey has his stare wistfully locked onto his left wrist, the countdown on his watch dwindling closer to its end. Every time Mikleo spares a glance at him, guilt wells up in his stomach. He decides to focus on the grass that pools around his shoes; its emerald colour matches that of Sorey's eyes.

There's little over a minute left when Sorey finally decides to shatter the tense silence between them.

“Mikleo, _please_ ,” he begs. Mikleo sees the tears accumulating in the crevices of his eyes. The sun reflects on them, making them shine brighter than diamonds. “I know that you're afraid but I-I…” The sound of a confession catches on Sorey's tongue as he trails off, unable to complete his sentence.

“You…?” Mikleo tests the waters. He wonders if he should. He wonders if what Sorey has to say is better left unheard.

“I've always been unsure for years but now, now I can safely say that…

...I love you.” Elation and anguish rage an intense war within Mikleo's heart, pulling at each side. He sees the pent up tears run like waves down Sorey's cheeks. Heartbreak. Oh Maotelus, Sorey has it deep, and so does he. Sorey brings his left arm up in preparation for the handshake they've neglected for years. “Which is why I’d like to ask you to be my soulmate one last time. Even if our time together is so short.”

“I'll hurt you.” Mikleo cracks too. He's facing down with his fists clenched, as salty drops sink to the ground like rocks in water.

Twenty seconds.

“I don't mind.” Sorey wipes his eyes with his right forearm.

“You shouldn't take such burdens onto yourself.”

“And neither should you,” Sorey rebukes. This time Mikleo finally looks up at him, to see his best friend at his most fearful, most vulnerable. Sorey's arm is quaking in midair, rattling in time to Mikleo's racing heartbeat. “Please,” he asks for the last time in a desperate whisper.

There's five seconds left and Mikleo faces the truth that damn, he wants this just as much as Sorey does.

And so, by the last second, his arm moves on its own to meet Sorey's. Despite everything, no matter how hard he resists, Mikleo's body is overwhelmed by a force that he cannot control. At the end of the day, this was inevitable, is what he tells himself.

Their watches falter to the ground. Mikleo watches Sorey's expression morph into one of enthrallment over a matter of seconds. They maintain their current position until Sorey bundles him up in the tightest, most emotional embrace that catches Mikleo off guard. It's returned within moments.

He's missed this _so much._ The feeling of Sorey's warmth tangling with his own and coming together as one. Mikleo lets Sorey press his cheek to his chest while he grins like a fool, still unable to push back onslaughts of tears. Thin hands absentmindedly thread through Sorey's hair, probably making it even more hectic and disheveled than it already is.

Mikleo still feels horrible. He still feels as if he should have done more to protect the one most dear to him. He's failed. And so, broken tears eventually fall. It's when Sorey pulls away and gives him a perplexed stare at the sight that he finally speaks up.

“I messed up.” This time, Mikleo is the one to collapse against Sorey's shoulder. He’s shaking so much and he can't _stop_. And breathing is hard too because he's forgotten to take his medication. Lovely.

“No, it's my fault as well. I was the one who was so insistent.” Sorey rubs circles on the small of Mikleo's back. They're soothing -- like sweet lullabyes. “I know what the implications are if you're gone.” He hears Sorey choke back a lingering sob on the last word.

Sorey brings Mikleo away from his shoulder and cups his cheeks between two soft palms. Mikleo's chest tingles at the sight of the most loving, affectionate and bright smile he's ever witnessed. The gesture works wonders to convince him that maybe, just maybe, everything will turn out alright in the end. By now, his tears have begun to dry up as well. It's difficult to discern whether it's because he's run out, or Sorey's done such a spectacular job of lifting his spirits.

He's in a trance when his hands move up to meet Sorey's, bringing them down and tenderly lacing their fingers together. Breathtaking, is how Sorey looks in front of him, while they stare with mesmerisation and disbelief into each other's eyes, never daring to avert their gaze for even a fleeting moment. Mikleo's eyelids tremble shut as he inches closer to Sorey, cheeks flushed, mouth only slightly parted. And then, they finally meet in the middle, lips lightly locked together. It's like two pieces of a puzzle -- a perfect fit.

The kiss doesn't last long. Mikleo pulls away. He and Sorey are red at the ears and he can feel their heartbeats thrumming in unison through their interwoven hands and _woah_ who knew this would feel so wonderful, so right. It's enough to temporarily push Mikleo's worries to the back of his mind because right now, all he can think about is Sorey and how stunning he looks under the golden light of the late afternoon sun.

“You don't suppose we should try that again, do you?” Mikleo whispers, his forehead pressed to Sorey's. His breath is cut off when their lips meet and part a second time.

This time it's Sorey who speaks. “It's always important to conduct three trials.” Such a statement is so awkward, so _Sorey_  and it doesn't fail to bring a giddy feeling to Mikleo's stomach.

He chuckles in response, “You're such an idiot.” And they come together for a third kiss. It's not so tentative this time. Their fingers remain enlaced while Sorey brings his free hand to cup Mikleo's cheek, deepening the kiss. Their lips move in perfect rhythm, never-ending because it all feels so _right_. A symphony of pleasured sighs mingles with the occasional laugh from when they make minute pauses to catch a gasp of breath as fuel to allow them to continue. It's enrapturing, ecstatic, euphoric.

They part. It's with reluctance that Mikleo pries his lips from Sorey's as he starts to feel a little faint.

Shoot, he hasn't taken any medication today. He's wheezing very obviously by this point; a savage reminder that _no_ , everything wasn't necessarily going to turn out alright. But then he looks at Sorey, a beacon of hope, wrought with concern as Mikleo coughs aggressively into his fist.

No words are needed. Sorey circles one arm around Mikleo's shoulder for support and brings them home together. It’s a small reminder of how they were when they first met.

Mikleo appreciates the gesture as he's starting to feel overwhelmed with fatigue. It's a given, since he's been sitting around all day, but now, being outside begins to take its toll.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey and Mikleo are reminded that time is simply not infinite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm many things but sorry is not one of them. 
> 
> *Rolls away* 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

Every time he spares a glance at Mikleo, his heart feels as if it's soaring beyond the atmosphere. His cheeks glow with the warmth of a lantern. His breath gets caught in his throat. 

Sorey is so hopelessly in love with him he doesn't know where to begin.

“Three trials? Really Sorey?”

“What?!” A pout forms with the downturn of lips. He knows that it reduces Mikleo to a pile of helpless mush if utilised in the appropriate manner.

“Nothing. Just that my lover is the weirdest, most hopeless romantic known to man.”

_ Lover _ . That has a beautiful ring to it. The word makes Sorey's heart beat in a giddy rhythm inside his chest, sending a blissful blush to his cheeks, making them radiate with warmth.

His arm is circled around Mikleo's shoulders to support him, as he's faint from not taking medication. Sorey feels Mikleo’s arm affectionately curl around his waist, pulling the two of them closer. Their bodies are pressed snugly together like peas in a pod. Sorey averts his gaze with a flush and foolish grin; he supposes that Mikleo is doing the same right now. A fleeting glance at the boy beside him is enough to confirm his suspicions. Mikleo is attempting to suppress a blinding smile behind the palm of his free hand. He looks just as enthralled as Sorey is.

Even if it's only temporary, Sorey is more than glad that he's been able to lift his spirits. He wishes that Mikleo can keep smiling like that for all eternity. It's so breathtaking, precious, stunning -- much like a treasured gem. No, it’s  _ more  _ than that; Mikleo is ethereal, like the seraphim of legend. More than anything, Sorey wants to show him that. He wants Mikleo to see the same as he does but knows that it's not that simple.

So Sorey makes it his priority to make Mikleo feel as loved as possible -- except they're still lodged in the ‘awkward honeymoon phase’ of their relationship, as Rose, an apparent ‘love expert’, liked to call it. And so, Sorey becomes a bundling hot mess of nerves whenever he attempts to initiate any affection.

Thankfully that doesn't take too long to overcome.

They're walking home one day, basking in the tranquility of each other's company, when Sorey has an incessant urge to bring their hands together. Because being close to Mikleo sounds very nice right now. His hand makes a tentative wiggle through the space between them, not exactly reaching Mikleo's. Of course, Mikleo eventually catches on, and fixes him with the most baffled stare that he can muster.

“What are you doing?” Sorey freezes. Caught red-handed. Or red-faced rather. With a fond roll of his eyes, Mikleo makes the decision to put Sorey out of his misery by wrapping their fingers together. He gives a reassuring smile that has Sorey's heart racing at the speed of light. “Since when did  _ you  _ get so nervous?”

“Well, I -- uh -- didn't know if you'd like to -- uh…” A chuckle escapes his lips as he rubs the back of his head sheepishly. It earns an affectionate nudge from Mikleo's shoulder. He seems to catch the drift, even if Sorey is a mess of sputters right now.

“Of course I do, you idiot,” says Mikleo, his voice tender. The circles he rubs with his thumb against Sorey's hand are enough reassurance. Within moments, Sorey feels his concerns trickle free and he's already skipping gleefully on his feet as he usually does, fingers interwoven with Mikleo's like thin thread through silken fabric.

And with time, they become more affectionate. They start to greet each other in the morning with loving pecks to the lips, while they spend the nights with their limbs sprawled and tangled amongst one another, as the fated pair drift into a tranquil slumber.

Sorey's heart feels as if it's constantly thrumming in his chest, pounding, as his heartstrings are plucked in time to a melody of love. It’s effortless to tell that Mikleo's feelings fall upon the same wavelength as his own. It shows in his eyes, his subtle smile, his laugh. Oh Maotelus,  _ his laugh _ . Sweet, gentle, entrancing, like a siren’s call. Sorey finds himself mesmerised every time. It's an explanation for all those instances where he ends up ambushing a poor, unsuspecting Mikleo, and wiggling his fingers at the boy’s waist, sending him into a fit of helpless giggles.

But alas, the bliss between them refuses to linger for an eternity. It dissipates, as Mikleo's condition inevitably deteriorates over the months. The effect of his medication eventually simmers. Sorey notices that he takes it with greater frequency and in larger doses to help regulate his breathing. Yet despite everything, Mikleo still wheezes when it's silent. Inhales between sentences. Sometimes even words.

Sorey receives news of his most recent visit to the doctor, and feels himself crack. He sees it in Mikleo too. It's written in the creases between his brows, and the way he draws his fingers frustratedly through his hair, while he's buried between his knees. There's regret evident in his expression, and Sorey can't help but feel as if it's related to him. Mikleo's fear of causing him pain, pushed to the back of his memory as they took time to relish in each other's presence, now gushing back at full force with the cruel reminder that their days together are numbered.

“You should leave you know -- for your own sake,” wavers Mikleo. “It hurts a lot when a soulmate dies.”

“I know,” comes Sorey's reply, as he perches atop his bed beside Mikleo.

“It's not your usual type of grieving. It hurts, physically as well.”

“I know,” Sorey repeats with conviction. He sees the conflict raging in Mikleo's eyes -- the selflessness, and sacrifice. He wishes that for once, Mikleo could pay attention to his own well being for even the most fleeting of moments.

“I've read about it! You'll have to bear the burden of having our souls torn apart. It could be the most painful thing a person will ever experience.”

“I know,” comes a soft whisper that matches perfectly with Sorey's tender gaze, which he directs at Mikleo, and Mikleo only. “That doesn't change my decision.”

Sorey's lips quirk upwards as he sees him ease, the tautness in his shoulders unfolding like knots, sagging in sync with a relenting sigh. “You're such a fool,” Mikleo says, bittersweet.

The phrase elicits a chuckle from Sorey, as he inches closer and sweetly whispers, “But I'm  _ your  _ fool.” At that, Mikleo frowns and furrows his brow, while his cheeks bloom like roses. Sorey responds with a goofy grin.

“Yeah, you're a hopelessly romantic fool, that's for sure.”

“But you love it really.”

“No, it's absolutely cringeworthy,” huffs Mikleo. Sorey pouts. He watches his lover give in almost immediately. “Oh, who am I kidding.” And Mikleo pulls him in for a kiss; it's sweet, soft. Until Sorey feels Mikleo’s slender fingers thread between his locks, pulling him closer and drawing him into sea of passion, as they're engulfed by waves of pleasure, because the way their bodies fit together so perfectly is enough to send their inhibitions through the roof.

Pulling apart is no easy feat.

Sorey's arms remain wound around Mikleo's waist, holding him in a warm embrace. No words are needed between them at this point, as they make a silent agreement to share the weight that the world has entrusted upon their shoulders.

“I love you, Mikleo.”

“I love you too, fool.”

“Hey!”

But even then, Sorey notices that doubt still festers within Mikleo, eating at him at every turn. All he can do is reassure, and hope for the best. It hurts; he wishes he could be of more help. On some nights, Mikleo appears to be free from sorrow, as he and Sorey whisper sweet nothings into each other's ears. Those are the best nights, as he's fortunate enough to experience Mikleo at his highest, while they're peppering each other with kisses, giggling like fools.

There are some occasions where they're not so fortunate. It's clear the pained creases of Mikleo's brows and gritting of his teeth. On those days, he nibbles on his lips, peeling them apart by the skin. Sorey notices whenever they choose to meet for a kiss. The surface of Mikleo's lips -- it's torn, rough to the touch.

“It's not a good habit, you know,” he warns, while their foreheards are pressed together just as they pull away.

“I don't think it really matters at this point.” More reminders. Mikleo's days are so constrained that he doesn't even possess the time to care about something like that. Sorey's words are ripped from him, confined like prisoners behind his mouth. So he just holds Mikleo close, chin resting on head. The tips of his hair tickle Sorey's skin with the daintiness of a feather. It's soft. Like silk.

The pressing of his lips to Mikleo's hairline says it all.

_ I'm here for you. _

* * *

 

One year later, and Mikleo's condition takes a sharp turn for the worse. He's almost constantly bedridden -- coughing and wheezing between sentences, words, letters. Sorey sees it, Muse does too, as well as the rest of their friends; Mikleo doesn't have much time left.

The first real sign is when he's no longer able to be present at school. It puts too much strain on his body to even walk, as he staggers when he stands, unable to move without aid.

Sorey's heart drops to his stomach, as he witnesses Mikleo’s illness chisel brutally at his health. They can no longer see each other at school, so he decides to visit whenever an opportunity arises, no matter how brief it may be. The way Mikleo brightens ever so slightly when they're basking in each other's company is rewarding enough.

It isn't enough to heal him.

Sorey learns the hard way. It happens one day when he reaches for Mikleo's hands, weaves their fingers together like thread, and then notices. More rigid and chilled than ice, the surface of his skin, drained of life. It's lost the usual healthy flush that blooms through, turning entirely on its side, concerningly pale, almost blue…Sorey feels as if he's going to be sick.

“You're freezing…” Sorey whispers, worry settling in his tone like a ton of bricks. Mikleo looks genuinely surprised at his remark, eyes visibly expanding in size.

“Am I? I didn't even notice,” comes Mikleo's reply. He's withdrawn in the way he speaks, eyes cast down and focusing upon the folds of his bedsheet. Sorey's jaded form relaxes against his lover’s lap, while he stares up at Mikleo with the sweetest, most loving smile that he can manage at this moment. It's a good distraction. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” replies Sorey with great swiftness. Mikleo just sighs and starts petting his hair. A usual habit of theirs. Tender, is how Sorey would describe it, and soothing too, like wind chimes. Things are almost exactly the same, except when Mikleo draws his hand across Sorey's head in a loving stroke, he's overwhelmed by an odd coolness. Nonetheless, Sorey still settles comfortably against Mikleo like snowflakes on pavement. A gentle gesture. One that brings both love and comfort to them both. He sees it, in the way Mikleo's lips make a slight positive quirk, despite the world crashing down around him with ferocity that rivals that of a fork of lightning. Sorey feels the arm that's tangled in his hair slowly break loose, trailing down his arm until pairs of fingers meet at the tips and tie themselves together.

He wonders if this is the final time he and Mikleo will be able to share wondrous moments such as these.

Regrettably, his intuition is correct.

Days later, Mikleo is in school again. He's hobbling on his feet, barely able to remain standing. Before he can even reach Sorey in the corridor, he has to recline momentarily against the walls for support, until he regains some energy and starts again. They finally meet as Mikleo collapses into his arms, wheezing more audibly than ever. His body is freezing, yet unusually clammy, as Sorey feels a moisture on Mikleo's skin.

“Why are you here?” Sorey steadies Mikleo in his arms until he's standing straight. “More importantly --  _ how  _ are you here?”

It takes Mikleo several coughs and a deep breath before he can answer, “my mother drove me in. I figured it'd be nice to see everyone for one last time before…”

Mikleo's breathing makes him sound as if he's run a marathon. It's so laboured and irregular, like the rugged surface of a rock. He's in pain too. Sorey sees it in his expression, and the way he brings his hand to his chest and clutches it, clinging for life.

“Be careful Mikleo! Here, I'll help you to your classes.” And help him he does, as he guides Mikleo throughout the school grounds. They remain drawn to each other like potent magnets. Especially as Sorey's concern for Mikleo's wellbeing reaches its peak, as he sees him struggle to even form coherent sentences without almost retching with coughs. Worry reveals itself in their friends too, especially when they're seated together at lunch. Everyone converses tensely while they pick at their food, except Mikleo, who denies hunger and refuses to eat anything.

Sorey is grouching at Rose for helping herself to one of his mabo curry buns when he feels a frosty hand grip his shoulder with such vehemence, that he's sure his circulation would be cut off. The sudden force in his shoulder sends him jerking in Mikleo's direction, only to see tear-stricken cheeks and a hand curled stiffly around the table’s edge, grip so brutal that his knuckles turn whiter than snow.

“Mikleo? Are you alright?!”

The world around them ceases in movement and life.

Mikleo can barely be heard when he speaks.

“I-I can't -- I can't breathe…!” An onslaught of feelings make a simultaneous collision with Sorey's chest at that moment; devastation and dread, pierce holes in his soft heart like steeled bullets, until he's left with nothing. This is it. Their time is running drier than a barren desert, with no signs of life to cling to.

It's Edna who frantically speaks up and snaps everyone out of the stupor they've descended into. “Don't just sit there you idiots -- call someone!” Rose is the next to act. Her hand makes swift manoeuvres, dialling the number for an ambulance, while Sorey is doing his best to support Mikleo and call Muse both at once. It's a haphazard scene of emotional dishevelment and panic.

It doesn't help that Mikleo loses consciousness. Sorey sees him topple, angling his arms just in time to catch before he crashes against the ground. He frees a single arm to continue his attempts to attain contact with Mikleo's mother by phone.

After that, all they can do is wait. But Sorey doesn't know if he can. Each second rattles up more debilitation within. It eats into his stream, his flesh, his mind. Until he's doubled over Mikleo's stiff form, embracing him as he quakes, radiant droplets exuding from his tear ducts, and cascading down plush cheeks.

Right now, it's just him. Not the crowd of curious and concerned students creeping up on them, nor the friends who are trying to ward them off. All that occupies Sorey's mind is Mikleo, and the excruciating hope that he'll be safe. He’ll be okay.

“Please Mikleo,  _ please _ …” It's a whisper at best. Shared between them only. Except Mikleo isn't even awake to lend an ear. Sorey is unable to even piece together the fragments of a sentence.

He continues to wait, but on his toes. As what seems to be the last of their time together, slips through his fingers like tiny golden grains of sand.

It's relieving to see the crowd of students partition in the centre, allowing for a crew of medics to emerge through. A ray of hope in a pit of despair.

Everything moves in a perplexing blur after that. One minute Sorey's by Mikleo's side in the ambulance, and the next, he's waiting at the hospital, wringing his hands in anticipation. The waiting room is just a mess of sobs and cries swarming around him. Sorey sees a lot in there -- relief, heartbreak, hope, despondence…

_ Love. _

They're all just like him. He could be in any one of their positions. Stalled at a crossroad, his world could stumble in any direction. At any moment, the fragile stability of Sorey's resolve could crash, bursting into oblivion.

It only grows thinner as one of the hospital staff give him confirmation that he's allowed to visit Mikleo. It's a slow process but he does manage to incline onto two feet, shadowing the steps of the nurse who guides him to where Mikleo resides. All he feels: fear. This could be the last time they ever speak, or feel one another's touch, or even lay eyes upon each other. The thought only makes his apprehension more debilitating.

He walks in to see Mikleo reading a book. All seems ordinary, except he has tubes protruding from his body and there's fatigue engraved in his expression. Even by simply sitting still, he appears to be exerting himself. Tentatively, Sorey approaches, perching in the chair next to his bedside. He wants to bundle Mikleo up in his arms, embrace him for what might be the final time, but it's infeasible. He's so brittle right now that he may as well crumble under Sorey's touch. So instead, the brunette settles for taking a single hand, wordlessly. He kneads their fingers together, searching for a comforting warmth.

But it's cold. Harsh, scathing, dead. It's almost as if the blood in Mikleo's body is avoiding his hands like the plague. Except Sorey finds that he's lost warmth all over, as he drags his fingertips along the length of one arm in a forlorn caress. The iciness stretches to Mikleo's expression too; he looks more taut than ever. The hand that's trailing up his arm stops at the shoulders, rubbing circles with it's thumb. Sorey doesn't think the gesture through. It just happens. He sees Mikleo grow warmer in the face as he sets his book aside. Sorey finds it comforting to know that he can return some ounce of life back to his lover.

For some reason, Mikleo looks on him with a gaze of concern. Was there something wrong? It's only then that Sorey realises he's trembling. His eyes feel glossed over with the beginnings of tears. Unfortunately, Mikleo catches drift within an instant.

“Are you alright? Come here,” he offers, hand gesturing to an empty space on his lap, encouraging Sorey to pursue his usual posturing. He positions himself against the soft surface without an ounce of hesitation, burying his face for no one to see. For a moment he's silent, shoulders trembling, arms gripping sheets, until he can no longer grasp onto the thin thread of  his resolve as it twirls out of reach. He sniffles. Then sobs. There are tremors in his breaths.

“Oh  _ Sorey, _ ” Mikleo laments. His hands are drawing themselves in smooth motions along Sorey's head and back. The way he speaks -- it's so weak. Feeble. Like he's barely holding himself together. It tugs at Sorey's heart strings even more. With time, he sits up to look at Mikleo again, except his face is still streaming with ugly tears.

It's by instinct that their lips meet, soft and tentative, a fleeting moment of bliss. The kiss lingers for the span of two seconds before Sorey pries away and cowers his head, hands cradling both of Mikleo's shoulders. Tears fall like rain against the blanket, soaking it entirely. Sorey is still sobbing, sniffling, his nose running. It feels revolting. The silence surrounding them and the way each sob lodges more mucus in his throat. His face is soaking wet by this point. He feels helpless.

Mikleo cups his cheek with the lightness of a feather, angles him upwards, and pulls him in for another kiss. He pulls away to take a breath, slow in the way he moves, before they meet again, and again, and again. Until Sorey is distracted by the butterflies in his stomach and heat in his cheeks. It's enough of a diversion to allow his sobs to eventually simmer into nothingness. He now looks on Mikleo with a smile, though bittersweet.

“I'm sorry,” is all he can muster. He's a wreck -- as if reality has driven into him with the force of a thousand spears. The shards of heartbreak pierce his skin and flesh, burying themselves within. Before Mikleo can say anything else, Muse, followed by their troupe of friends, make an entrance.

Seeing them all together, lifts Sorey's spirits a little, as he receives a reminder that he won't be alone in his struggle; the burden is not his to hold. And so, no matter the stakes at hand, he decides to bring Mikleo every ounce of happiness available in the flicker of time that they had remaining.

Over the next couple of days, Sorey makes his visits in higher spirits, greets his lover with a peck to the lips, cheeks, forehead. Sometimes their friends are there too. On those occasions he simmers down his affection a little, to both simultaneously avoid their incessant teasing and Mikleo's vexation that results. Even at times like this, they set aside their concerns like waste just to experience the last graspable moments of bliss. The best instances, Sorey thinks, are when it's just the two of them, cocooned over a book like they used to. As if nothing had ever changed.

In this window of days, he almost forgets how Mikleo's condition degenerates even further.

* * *

 

“Hello?”

_ “Is this Mrs. Rulay speaking?” _

“Yes -- how may I help you?”

_ “I'm afraid Mikleo’s condition has become very severe. His organs have begun to fail, and there's a chance that he may not even make it through the night.” _

It takes every ounce of Muse’s strength to restrain her from allowing the phone to clatter to the ground. The final string of hope that loosely ties her together, begins to unravel, fray and tear.

“Right. I’ll try to be there as soon as I can.”

It doesn't take much thought for her to dial Sorey's number as she's bounding out of the house in pyjamas and slippers. It's raining thickly outside.

* * *

 

Mikleo. The forefront of his mind, all that's pushing him onward. He's not equipped for this onslaught of rain but the thought doesn't even rattle his brain. Countless drops soak through the porous material of his tracksuit, settling inside each tiny crevice. He's running, feet clattering against the pavement, shoes smashing carelessly into puddles allowing water to sneak inside.

Shoot. A stitch stabs at his side, rather insistently at that.

Sorey ignores it. There could only be minutes separating Mikleo from his…from his…

The words can't even be uttered in his mind. A taboo. Fear disguises itself as nausea, a crippling charade that conjures bile within his stomach.

He doesn't have much more distance to cover. He can make it in time. He  _ has  _ to make it in time. But since when has time ever been generous towards them?

A wave of pain strikes through Sorey's chest, with enough potency to make him stagger, then disappears. He pushes forward. Through the hospital doors, and eventually to where Mikleo resides, after he acquires the approval of the staff. The pain returns again, vanishing in the blink of an eye. Sorey wonders if this is it. The beginning of the end. The severing of bonds formed between them.

He arrives, hand on chest, comforted slightly by the presence of Muse. An assurance that he isn't the only one. There's a window of glass separating them from Mikleo, who's expression is unreadable, obstructed by doctors working frantically to keep him going.

Every second, Sorey feels himself grow weaker, and the ache in his chest become more prominent. The rhythm of the heart monitor is the only indication that Mikleo still remains alive.

That is, until it halts.

Anguish pulses through Sorey's form, tearing it apart and searing it like flames. So this is it. The feeling of indescribable pain that Mikleo mentioned. When the countdown finally reaches zero, and the bonds are severed in two again. His hand clenches his chest as he keels over, falling to the ground on two knees, screaming, wailing, making some sort of garbled sound of agony. He coughs. Some sort of fluid protrudes between his lips. It's ugly and red. Probably blood.

Sorey wonders if being burnt alive was more pleasant than  _ this _ . He doesn't register many sounds, except the repeated cries of Muse beside him.

“My baby, my baby…” she sobs, breaking into her palms. “He's gone. He's really gone.” She collapses next to Sorey. Neither of them are in any position to console one another.

Sorey can only attempt to assemble a bizarre plea for help as the pain only grows stronger with the realisation that Mikleo is  _ gone _ . Just like Muse had said.

He's dead. There's no way to sugarcoat it now.

Sorey passes out into a world plagued with nightmares.

* * *

 

Years have dragged on since that day. Even if the memory so much as crosses his mind, his chest still constricts, winding into knots. Mikleo's death, and the hours he spent in indescribable pain afterwards. He knew what would happen, yet despite everything, he doesn't regret the time he and Mikleo did spend together. With time, Sorey learns to tame his burdens into submission. He decides to live and experience the world for Mikleo too. And maybe, sometime, if they ever meet, he can tell him all about it.

One day, on his shift at the bookstore, Sorey receives an odd question. “Hey mister! Have you met your soulmate yet?” It presents itself in the form of a young boy who looks to be of seven years. His eyes glisten with each word.

“I have. Why do you ask?” A hint of regret sinks into Sorey's stomach as he sees the boy’s shoulders deflate a little, like a balloon.

“Well my mum doesn't have very long left, so I was wondering…” Sorey chuckles, standing on his tiptoes to place a book on the shelf. He grunts a little at the movement.

“Oh, there you are! You shouldn't wander off like that!” The boy’s mother makes an appearance beside him, chastising sternly. “Sorry if he caused you any trouble!”

“No worries!” A chirp. Sorey descends to the boy's level with a smile on his face. It holds a trace of forlornness, the memories of his beloved coming back to fruition in the corners of his mind. It hurts still. On some nights, he still finds himself breaking down into his pillow, wishing that Mikleo's tender fingers would caress him ever again, even if it were just for a moment.

“You shouldn't be too upset. I'm sure your mother will meet someone wonderful. Trust me, I have a lot of experience!” His comment grabs the interest of the boy’s parent, and she leans over to make a remark as well.

“I’m sure the young man’s soulmate is very lucky.” She ruffles her son’s hair as she speaks, a friendly smile ghosting her features.

“ _ I  _ was the lucky one. He was wonderful but...unfortunately he's not around any longer.”

“Well, I hope you can meet again soon!” Sorey is taken aback by the child’s exclamation but he beams afterwards.

“Me too.”

Sorey holds onto that dream for the remainder of his life, no matter how improbable it appears.

Then, one day, he passes on too.

He doesn't expect to awake again with the sight of Mikleo smiling down at him with utmost serenity and mirth. His eyes, like amethysts encased in light, are the first thing that Sorey catches sight of. If this is a dream, it's the best he's ever had.

“Long time no see, you hopeless fool.”

Sorey can't help but fall in love all over again.

And he doesn't think he'll ever stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for this fic!! Although I do plan on posting a more...uplifting version of this AU for valentines and also, I have many other Sormik fics planned, which is great! 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this, even if it was several weeks late (I'm really sorry about that -- I got very caught up in personal issues and was itching to write for ages).
> 
> I still need to learn how to embed links on Ao3 but until then, here are my twitter and tumblr, if you want to talk to me on either (basically shameless self-advertisement lol) :
> 
> http://mallu-u.tumblr.com/ (tumblr)
> 
> https://twitter.com/mal1uu (twitter) 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated; I'd love to know what you think!!

**Author's Note:**

> I'll hopefully have the next chapter up by the end of this week! I have loads of fics planned and aaah I've been so eager to write recently. 
> 
> Let me know what you guys think!!
> 
> Also feel free to go to my twitter or tumblr if you'd like to talk!! (Idk how to embed links so I'll fix that later)  
> Twitter: @mal1uu  
> Tumblr: http://mallu-u.tumblr.com/


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